by Su Williams
“I’m sending Ari on a recon mission,” I whispered to Nick. Maybe she’ll bite him and he’ll die. One could wish. Perhaps, she could pick up some latent memoryprints left behind by Thomas or William. Perhaps, like the loops, whorls and arches of fingerprints, Ari might find the Rephaim’s strategy still printed on some surface they’d touched. Or garner the information from Thomas, himself. The thought of her biting him warmed my heart and I realized I’d crossed over from apprehension to concession about killing. Her spindly legs twitched and arced across my palm as I relayed my command. Then, she glimmered from my hand.
Nick and I hunkered down in the garage like two sodbusters avoiding the OK corral. She can print just like us. I sent the message to Nick and hoped I wasn’t on a wideband radio frequency. She’ll print their plans and come tell me.
“Come out. Come out. Wherever you are.” But Thomas knew exactly where we were. His heavy footfalls pounded nearby. “Ouch!” and then the sound of flesh slapping flesh.
I giggled a hysterical laugh of fear at the thought of Thomas crushing her little body. But she was metal. Thomas couldn’t hurt her. I released a forgotten breath as Ari materialized on my thigh, scrambled up my leg and pricked my wrist.
William and Thomas schemed behind an enormous Ponderosa.
“The bitch has a pistol mod with lye bullets,” Thomas rumbled.
“Fantastic. Next time one of them is in the open, project the image of one of us to the girl so she believes it’s one of us. She’ll shoot one of her own.” Images of my finger on the trigger, the sights aimed at one of the Wraith. Firing. And then Nick or Sabre would fall to the ground; dead by my hand.
I released the whimper that warred in my throat. No. Such a tiny word, but my voice refused speak it. No. That is not going to happen. But my prescient abilities were still so new and raw; I couldn’t tell if that was a memory or a premonition.
Good girl. Go show Nick.
Ari tickled her way down my arm and scurried to Nick.
“It’s just a memory, honey,” Nick said softly after receiving the print, and Ari’s image of the turmoil that roiled within me. “Just a memory of a memory. That’s all.”
“’kay,” I squeaked. I needed to get a grip. Nick scooted closer. His cool hand sizzled against the panicked heat of my cheek.
“Come, come now little Dream Weaver,” Thomas drew out the word ‘dream’ to goad Nick on. “Time to come out and play.”
Nick’s eyes hardened to black at the taunt, but he turned the tumultuous gaze on me. “Emari…”
“I know. Willing non-participant.”
“Please…”
“I know. Stay here.”
“Actually,” he said with a strained smirk, “I was going to say ‘stay out of it.’ But that works, too. I’ll be back soon. Just—please stay out of trouble.” Worry cast his eyes midnight blue. I nodded assent, and with a pain-filled smile, Nick phased and drifted away. His sparkling body still awed me, and I watched until every last glimmer faded from sight.
Armed to the teeth and nowhere to go. The sound of my giggle was frightening—tainted with a touch of manic. I pressed my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, pushed into a distraught rock. I was exhausted from all the mind games and just needed a moment to catch my breath. A spot of oil on the floor distracted me. I wondered what type of oil it was, which of Sabre’s little toys sprung a leak. But it didn’t last long. Tormented images laced with mayhem bombarded my mind. Eddyson and Ivy, safe and sound, but tenuous. Thomas could change that in the blink of an eye. Nick, Sabre. Sabre and Sarah Rose, her head upon his breast; her tiny hand clutched in his; the drumming of their hearts in synch—and then she’s ripped away from him—his heart exhumed from his chest. Thomas, as he leans over Sarah’s body and twists her last thoughts into lies. The satisfied loathing that wells within William as the rope snaps taut around Sabre’s neck. Blood. Horror. Nick—as fire blazes in his veins, and fever scorches away his life without resistance. One. Only. Lonely. Lonesome. And grief. Always grief—the one common black thread that stitches it all together—stitches all things, all people, together.
The garage was an island unto itself. The rest of the world hovered near. I could hear the passing of cars out on Market Street and Highway 2, but an invisible dome cut, isolated and separated. Secrets and promises hedged me in.
Abrupt and violent, Sabre’s body crashed to the ground across the yard. Crimson streamed from his nose and a brutal gash across his head. His chest groped for life, its desperation pulled on my heart, but the wall of Nick’s words trussed my feet to the spot. Sabre was dying. His life gasped out of him with every desperate pant. The wind continued to roar. Did that mean it was now two against one? Was Nick now battling both of the Wraith on his own?
“Sabre.”
“Stay,” the command so breathy I couldn’t tell if it was verbal or memory.
Please… I sent to him. Let me help.
No. There is no help.
What?! What did that mean? Was he dying while I stood by and watched?
Sabre…
Please…for him.
Sabre’s plea clenched my heart. Neither choice was acceptable: stay, and Nick would be happy, but Sabre might die; go, and destroy Nick if anything happened to me. But the decisions was wrenched from hands when Thomas and Nick materialized between me and Sabre’s prostrate form. Both crouched on the ground on their hands and knees, panting from exhaustion. Nick’s wounds were nearly healed, the blood no longer poured from gaping wounds.
That’s it! Sabre needs to phase. He needed to heal himself. But why wasn’t he? He knew what to do. Why wasn’t he doing it? And where was William in all this mess?
Thomas whorled away into the night, and Nick phase to my side at the doors to the garage. My thoughts kicked in to survival mode.
“Okay. You need to get to Sabre and check on him,” I told Nick as I pushed him toward Sabre’s body.
“No!” He grabbed my arms and pressed me back over the threshold of the garage. “I am not leaving you alone.”
“Nick, get a grip! Your friend may be dying. He needs you.”
“You need me, too,” he argued.
“No. I don’t.” I crossed my arms in defiance. “And if you’re not going to help him—I am.” I meant to make a dramatic exit but Nick spun me around into his arms.
“Maybe,” he said, his voice withered and strained, “I need you more than you need me.”
“You don’t have to make a choice between me and Sabre, Nick. But you also can’t let your friend die because you’re afraid something will happen to me.” His shoulders slumped in resignation. “Now, can we go check on him?”
With a reluctant nod, he took my hand. “Stay close to me. You have to watch everywhere, for any sign of movement.”
Yeah, head on a swivel. Got it! “As you wish.” We exchanged an understanding smile, then raced hand in hand to Sabre’s prone body, canvassing the area as we went. Waves of worry rolled off Nick as he checked for a pulse, palpated and accessed the wounds. His face drained, pale and grim when his hands came away bloodstained. My own heart contracted with his, as fear and adrenaline flooded our veins. Then, Sabre’s body began to gutter and sparkle like a child’s firework reaching the end of its life; and he vanished.
“Oh my god! Where is he? Is he dead?” I wailed. I’d never seen a Caphar die—of course, I haven’t!
“I most certainly hope so,” came a voice, succinct and recognized. Thomas stepped nonchalant from the shadows, his arms crossed casually across his chest. “And it’s about bloody time, too.”
Nick shoved me behind him, placing himself between me and Thomas, his growl so primal it almost frightened me. Thomas chortled a nefarious laugh. “You would think after nearly a century of opposing me, you’d know better. When I want her, I will simply take her from you.”
His use of the of the word ‘when’ dropped in my stomach like a boulder. If he really wanted me, and eventually, he would, I knew he
could get to me. And on the way through—was Nick. Thomas had to be taken down. Now, I fully understood Nick’s desire to kill him. Thomas would never stop, until we were all dead. A plan coalesced in my mind.
No! Nick’s response was vehement.
I can do this. He’ll never see Ari coming.
No.
With or without you, I’m doing this!
Nick was still unaccustomed to my boldness. I really wasn’t the ‘hapless puddle’ we joked about. And I was no longer crushed. No longer a victim—determined never to be one again.
What have you got? We’re wasting time.
Frustration rattled at the back of his throat. Fine.
Thank you.
Some inane posturing volleyed between Nick and Thomas, but my mind was engrossed on other things. This would be painful, for sure. I pressed Ari into my chest until her eight legs popped through the skin. I may be a ‘baby’ Caphar, but I was sure I could do it. I had the memories of Sabre’s twists and re-weavings. I just had to weave Thomas into the equation. Bile warred in my gut, as I re-weaved the warped images of the rape. My chest heaved. Hyperventilation made me dizzy, and I leaned my head on Nick’s back for support. My body quaked and a whimper escaped before I could control it.
Em, stop!
It’s fine…I’m almost done.
As if on cue, Ari scuttled across my shoulder, down my body to the ground, where she sparked and vanished. All she needed was a moment to transfer the images. Just one more tiny spider bite.
Thomas roared and batted his ankle. We saw Ari drop to the ground, just as Thomas’ boot came down hard on her body. There was a gut-wrenching crunch, and when Thomas lifted his foot, Ari lay smashed into the ground.
“No!” I lurched forward, but Nick stayed me.
“You really think a bauble with a bit of old magic can stop me?” He laughed, low and cynical.
One could hope, I thought.
“It’s time to end this.” Thomas advanced, a storm front of one. Five more paces and he’d be on us. Four. Nick’s body hardened under my fingertips, and crouched into combat stance. Three. Two…
Cold, night air rushed around us. I clung to Nick in fear that William was now enjoining the fray. Maybe—we really were about to die.
Chapter 27 Love Me Bad
Instead, Sabre whorled around Thomas, and pinned him with one arm around his throat and a wicked combat knife to his gut, angled up toward his heart. Thomas struggled against Sabre’s grasp, but the knife nicked into his flesh with each movement. Sabre murmured something menacing that we couldn’t quite hear, and Thomas stilled.
“I believe it’s time for the truth. Don’t you?” Sabre face contorted with fury at the Wraith.
“Whose truth is that, old friend?” Despite being a hostage, Thomas exuded arrogance. “Yours? Or mine?”
“You were never my friend. Your only goal, from the moment you strolled into our lives, has been my destruction. As for truth, the truth. Not your warped, convoluted lies.”
“Aw, my friend, so cynical with age. And truth is relative,” Thomas spoke with nonchalance—just another quiet Sunday stroll.
Sabre’s patience evaporated. “The truth! Before I spill your fucking guts on the ground!” he growled.
Whoa! Sabre swore! Despite being the bad ass, his language never resorted to cussing. Nick nudged me, reminded me to keep my head in the game.
The Wraith chuckled. “Perhaps the truth shall die with me.”
The blade pressed deeper into Thomas’ stomach. Blood soaked Sabre’s hand, sticky and hot, and cooled as it dripped to the ground with slow, quiet thuds. Thomas’ gaze cut across the yard in search of William. My gaze followed the arc of his. Where was William?
“If not for William, at least let me hear the words from your mouth.” Sabre eased up on the knife. “Tell me!” he yelled. “Confess before witnesses your treachery.”
“What is it that you wish to know?” Thomas gasped under the press of Sabre’s arm.
A frustrated, primal snarl ripped from Sabre’s throat. He was beyond tired of Thomas’ stupid game. “The truth about the death of Sarah Rose.”
“Aw yes. The most lovely and sumptuous Sarah Rose.”
Sabre snarled again, fierce and cruel. His muscles shook with restraint. Everything in him wanted to rip the Wraith to shreds, but he wanted the truth first. “Tell. The truth. Now!”
Thomas scanned the grounds in search of his master, but this time, a shadow of fear danced in his eyes.
“I did it.” The words tumbled out, gravelly and weak.
“Say it louder so we can all hear,” Sabre raged.
This time, decided fear sparked in the Wraith’s eyes as his gaze combed the yard. He writhed against Sabre’s hold, but the blade sank deeper with his efforts.
“Say! It!”
Decades of denial darkened Thomas face. Centuries of getting one over on Sabre, of lying to William, contorted his cadaverous face. “I killed Sarah Rose,” he said, as if the truth scourged his throat on the way out. “I wrapped my hands around that pretty little throat and broke that pretty little neck.”
As though projected on the large blank wall in Sabre’s living room, images swept us into the past.
Beautiful, blonde and innocent, Sarah Rose sat by the creek, dangling her fingertips in the cool mountain run off. The starry look of a woman in love reflected in her blue eyes. Love for the man, Sabre. A branch snapped nearby and Sarah launched to her feet; the layers of her dress cascaded around her feet.
“You are so beautiful,” Thomas crooned.
Sarah flushed. “Why thank you, Thomas.”
So shy, so childlike, so trusting. She was too young to know the dangers of the man that circled her like a piece of meat. Though a shiver of intuition raced up her spine. Thomas trailed coarse fingers up her arm. “Yes, you are very lovely, my dear. I would have you as my own.”
“My heart belongs to another,” she said softly, a tiny smile of adoration crept across her lips.
His arm snaked around her waist and he forced her against his body. Desperate and afraid, she pushed away from him, but his strength outdid hers and he held her close.
“I would have you as my own,” he repeated and kissed the elegant curve of her neck.
Sarah struggled more aggressively, panic brightened her eyes. “Please, Thomas. My heart belongs to Sabre and my hand will be his also.”
“Perhaps not—when I’m done with you.”
“Please. My brother. He will kill you if you hurt me.”
Thomas simply chuckled. He held her body to his with one arm, and clasped her hair with the other. Jerking her head back, he slobbered greedy kisses down her neck.
“Please…” she cried.
Thomas threw her body to the muddy bank, her hair and petticoats fanned across the ground. He pressed his body on top of hers to hold her down.
Realization flooded her face. She bucked and screamed and clawed at his face. Thomas pressed a hand over her mouth, but she bit him. He roared in anger, and he cuffed her hard across the face. Still she struggled.
“My brother. And Sabre. They will find you. They will kill you.”
“By the time I’m done with you, your brother will believe it was Sabre who molested you. And so will you,” he sneered.
“No! No!” she screamed and fought her fiercest yet. “Sabre!”
“Sarah Rose?!” Sabre’s voice came from a distance.
Thomas scowled, his plan foiled. As Sarah continued to struggle and fight, Thomas reached his hands around her throat to silence her cries. Her eyes went wide and blank, unseeing, staring into the heavens. Then, with a vicious twist, he broke her neck.
“I had only a moment to change the final memories in her pretty little head to indict her betrothed. I vanished just as you flailed through the brush to find her frail, human body on the banks of the creek. I went directly to William while you extracted those final memories. What horror it must have been, to see yourself murder her. The
rest just fell nicely into place, after I showed her brother the memories of what I had witnessed Sabre do to his beloved sister in a fit of jealous rage. He doubted me at first. Until he saw her withered body laying by the creek and his pet, Sabre had absconded.”
The lights surrounding the yard sputtered and dimmed as a raging flurry stormed around us. Sparks like tongues of fire lashed at Thomas as William shoved Sabre away. In a hail of fury, William slammed Thomas to the ground and pinned him with his weight.
“Why?” William’s voice barely had strength enough to force out the word. “Why!” he screamed through shattering sobs into Thomas’ face.
“Simply because I wanted her. And she wouldn’t have me. If I couldn’t have her, I’d be damned if he would. He would only have made her life miserable. But she refused to see the truth I showed her, true and plain. And why shouldn’t I blame him for her death? If he had stayed out of her life, I’d have won her heart.”
“She was my sister,” William crumpled Thomas’ shirt in his fists and pounded his head to the ground with each syllable. “I have hated the one heart that was truest. And all because of your lies.” William continued to mutter incoherent words that sounded like a heartfelt declaration. After a moment, he shifted his weight off the other Wraith and hauled him to his feet. But Thomas took advantage of the liberty, and swirled into a blazing, buffeting fire. William’s foundering energy attacked the other Wraith and the two shifted randomly from solid to ethereal, and stages between both.
The Rephaim broke into another brawl with the Caphar as only spectators. Like a microclimate storm confined to this one, small patch of ground, they savaged each other. Nick backed me towards the garage, his arms wide to shield me. Thomas whirled between us and snatched the knife and taser Nick had drawn for protection. He turned on William with primal roar, thrust the knife deep into William’s chest and ripped it out again. But William’s anger was dauntless, and even with a mortal wound, he launched himself at Thomas.